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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22528066">filth</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Metal Gear</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Masturbation, Scat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 12:07:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,078</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22528066</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ocelot has IBS. It is what it says it is on the tin.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kazuhira Miller/Ocelot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>filth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is... pretty bad, both as far as writing goes and on concept. its gross. it sucks. but its been stuck in my google docs for months now and i want to get it out of there. so, to the one other person interested in this kind of thing (and the many others here to read something gross to your friends in a voice call): here you go</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ocelot rested his aching body flat against the pole he was bound to. His overcoats had been stripped from him, his form-fitting soviet fatigues clinging to his body, slick with sweat and blood. Fresh from a beating, he was supposed to be interrogated for the dirty work he did at Cipher. Alas, he was the only torture technician they had at MSF, and someone had to fill his place. Commander Miller was assigned to watch him as they waited for the tech to fill in paperwork, get his briefing, and step up to the position.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pipe he was bound to rumbled as water ran through it, shaking his cuffs. His hands were tied behind his back, around the harsh metal piping that ran through the basement, keeping him trapped, pathetically crumpled on the floor. He had become desperate to ease his queasy, raging stomach. He knew it would've been no use to attempt to break the cuffs, as he was a slimmer, weaker guy, but even if he had succeeded Kaz would've just wrangled him back into place and tied him down harder. He was pathetic enough in this state, and didn't need the added stress of his bowels moving around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kaz?” Ocelot asked sweetly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Adam?” Kaz replied just as sweet, mocking his tone. He was slouched in a shitty plastic chair that had been hastily dragged to the room, his voice filled with a familiar smugness. He had an issue of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Honcho </span>
  </em>
  <span>rested in his hands like a book, his eyes lazily skimming over the raunchy images.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I need to use the bathroom.” Ocelot admitted as he swallowed the lump in his throat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Silence filled the room as Kaz peered up from what he was reading.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So uncuff me and let me use the bathroom.” A desperateness in Ocelot's voice cracked out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kaz looked back down. Flipped a page.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t hold it.” Adam stood up, clenching his thighs together. “Not for much longer. I really really need to go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then go in your pants. Why should I care?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sweetness wasn't working on Kaz. Of course it didn't, he always loved bigger, older men, Ocelot being sweet was just another layer on the whole mess. May as well drop the act. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You cannot be fucking serious. You’d rather sit in a room with a man who smells like death for hours than risk uncuffing me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The last time I uncuffed you, you were faking an injury and tried to kill me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ocelot's stomach groaned and he doubled over in pain. "Well, I'm not faking now." He let out a loud whine as his stomach gurgled, trying to hold under the pressure. "And it really, REALLY hurts."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kaz sighed and peered up, not moving his fine literature. "If I do something for you, will you shut up?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ocelot nodded eagerly, watching Kaz set aside his smut and walk into the inky blackness of the barely lit basement. Kaz sighed as he dragged himself back, tossing a bucket under Ocelots legs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Here." Kaz said flatly. "If you don't want to shit on yourself, shit in this."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ocelot scoffed. "You're unreal. How am I supposed to get my pants off?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Uh, with your hands?" Plastic and metal creaked under his weight as he sat back down. "You're so melodramatic. It's just cuffs, you're not </span>
  <em>
    <span>completely</span>
  </em>
  <span> helpless." The sound of paper flipping wildly as he opened the magazine back up. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"If you were smart, you'd be out of here already." </span>
  </em>
  <span>He mumbled under his breath as Ocelot gawked at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you really have to watch?" Ocelot began to tug at his pants from the back, inching them downward, his hips wriggling and worsening the pressure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yep."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Really?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yep." Kaz flipped a page. "Wouldn't be much of a guard if I didn't have to watch, would I?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I can't go if you watch." Ocelot had finally wriggled his pants past his knees. All of this movement had jostled his bowels around, and whether Ocelot wanted it or not, it was eventually going to come out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, that's tough." Kaz said. "Here, I can't lose eyesight on you, but it's not like I wanna see it either." He tossed over a towel. "Cover yourself up."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ocelot felt like he was going insane. "Has anyone ever told you that you're dense? I can't even pick that up."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Fine, fine, I'll move your damn hands. If you hit me I'm knocking you out and letting you shit yourself, though."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ocelot's face flushed hard as Kaz stood up and began walking over. He wanted to curl up and die. Maybe this new interrogator would be a rookie and kill him on accident.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Kaz gripped Ocelot’s wrists hard, unclicking the cuffs and jerking his arms forward, placing them in front of him. The sudden movement irritated him, loosening his body some, and letting out some much needed gas. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a ripe one, the smell making his eyes water. Ocelot's forehead was drenched in sweat, hoping desperately that Kaz was too bored to care about humiliating him, but he was deeply, deeply wrong.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kaz laughed at him, looking him in the eyes as he relocked the cuffs. "That's fucking disgusting. What did you eat?" He pushed Ocelot back against the pipe, jostling his organs around some more. Ocelot was bright red, and more importantly, quiet. He couldn't force a reply out of himself if he even wanted to. Kaz hated Ocelot deeply, and the feeling was mutual. But Ocelot was cute. And Kaz didn't get to watch people squirm as much as he'd like. He set everything aside to watch, stretching out his arms and resting them behind his head. This was going to be fucking disgusting, but Ocelot was going to hate it, which meant Kaz was going to love it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ocelot scrambled for the towel, covering up the bucket and the lower half of his body. He stared at the ground, not at Kaz, didn't even want to acknowledge that Kaz was there. Closed his eyes, pushed hard. Needed to get it over with. Only air came out, an embarrassing, unbearable, squeak. Loud, short and horrible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kaz hummed, chuckled. Ocelot glared at him, death sparking in his eyes. He looked as though he was about lunge forward and strangle Kaz, even his crouch looked squirrely and animalistic. He broke eye contact, his grip on the towel tightening as he pushed harder. More air. A longer, wetter rip. It smelled fucking awful and Ocelot had to stew in it. He could feel something thick pressing up against his opening. He almost wanted to hold it back, not give Kaz the satisfaction of watching it happen. But it was far too late now, and his colon felt like it was absolutely stuffed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A loud hiss echoed from the bucket as he let himself loose, urine streaming down his thighs as the force pressed on his bladder. His pelvis stung as he began to stretch open, the consequences of holding it in for so long began to hammer down on him. It was big, painfully big, hard and crackled from holding for so long. It didn't help that there were days of gas squeezing out along with it. The noise was as horrible as the smell, wet, pungent. It forced a grunt out of him, clenching his teeth and closing his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first log felt like it was going to go on forever, softening as it went, emptying out the more recent meals cramped up in his bowels. The softer stool was significantly less painful, far easier to pass. He groaned in relief as thick, greasy, logs piled up underneath him. More gas disrupted him, splattering the excess along the sides of the bucket. Kaz gagged, but didn’t say anything. Not that Ocelot was in the mood to hear it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The burst had given leeway for much, much more release. Soft, but incredibly loud, with a surprising amount of force, causing Ocelot to keel and clutch at the towel with an iron grip. A soft moan escaped him as he shifted to let more out, repositioning as the volume became ridiculous. The bucket was already halfway full and Ocelot was nowhere near done. Not that he could tell with how hard his eyes were clenched shut.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The spew stopped for a minute, sputtering as his eyes flickered open. He swallowed his own spit, trying not to focus on the internal sting. He heard Kaz grunt and shift in his chair, daring not to look up, not to see Kaz mocking him. Ocelot was already ashamed of what he had to do, he didn’t need Kaz to add to it, make it harder for him to push it all out. He closed his eyes again. Squeezing hard. There was so much pressure, so much more than he’d already experienced, but he didn’t feel anything solid inside. No, something far worse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had a pretty impressive gape from the thickness of his previous shit, allowing backed up diarrhea to drip down his body with ease. Liquidy, soft stool broke out, not nearly water but with no solid form either. Just pure release. It felt fucking amazing, and he felt disgusting to be enjoying it, and yet it was easing the sting inside his sick bowels like ice to a wound. He whimpered again, his body shuddering with the sudden release of so much gas and stool. It smelled worse than the last, almost rancid, the room echoing a sickly wet noise as he relieved himself. He had to have eaten something expired because this was a complete disaster, and he would surely rupture something if it happened again. He needed to go to sickbay, fast.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ocelot could feel the heat pooling up, getting closer and closer to his body. The bucket was almost full, he didn’t have nearly enough space to empty himself out. He swallowed his saliva, opened his eyes, the grime-coated ground and all of it's rust coming into focus. He was going to have to tell Kaz he was about to shit on the floor. He whined, straining to get the rest of the waste out. If he could just stop it momentarily and hold it there, he'd be able to tell Kaz to get another bucket, cover up at least some of the shame.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grunted as he forced himself to a stop, clenched together his thighs. It felt like it was boiling inside of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kaz?” he squeaked, on the verge of tears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kaz didn’t reply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mon Miller, please. This is an emergency. Don’t be mean...” Ocelot whimpered, a little bit of stool leaking out of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kaz mumbled something, too low for Ocelot to understand, prompting him to look up. His eyes widened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kaz was presented quite nicely, legs spread out, cock twitching as he rode off of his orgasm, cum staining his chest. His glasses were askew and he was out of breath, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Honcho</span>
  </em>
  <span> dramatically left on the floor beneath him. He was unresponsive, couldn't will himself into looking at Ocelot or admitting what he'd done.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Kaz?!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No response. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Kaz, please, I-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His cry for help was cut off by a sharp grunt, relieving himself and filling the bucket up to its brim.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Kaz, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I can't hold it, can you please, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span> get another bucket?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kaz grunted, standing upright and adjusting his glasses. Walked over to Ocelot and kept his nose closed, picked up the bucket Ocelot was using and moved it over to a heap of trash in the back corner. Ocelot held his thighs together, trying to ignore the sound of wet hitting concrete. Kaz wiped off his chest and grabbed Ocelot by the cuffs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Pull your pants up."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Huh?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Pull your pants up. I'm taking you to the fucking doctor. You're getting an enema."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Wh-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ocelot pulled up his pants.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You heard me. C'mon." Kaz tugged on him, pulling Ocelot into a stumble. He gasped, flinching back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I can't- I, I can't walk! I'll… It's loose."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I know. Just hurry up."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I-- No! I'm not- I can't."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Dude, if you shit yourself, you shit yourself. I'm not letting you shit all over a new employee if you have some kind of disease."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Food poisoning isn't contagious you idiot."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We don't know if it's food poisoning, and it fucking stinks in here." Kaz broke eye contact and ushered him towards the door. "Just- come on already."</span>
</p>
<p>Ocelot obliged.</p>
  </div></div>
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